David Fine's study of German Jewish soldiers means to correct a few widely held beliefs regarding their experience of antisemitism during World War I. He argues that Jews had little to complain about in terms of advancement and recognition of their service within the military. This is the reason they did so little complaining for the historical record. They were, and by and large felt themselves to be, well integrated in the armed forces. On this basis Fine claims that World War I was not the watershed in the history of German antisemitism that many believe it to be.

The author repeatedly concedes that there was antisemitism at all levels of the German army but dismisses it as no better and no worse than what was to be found in the armies of other nations. Prejudice does not seem to have translated into authentic antisemitism, that is, verifiable mistreatment of Jewish soldiers, a denial of their rights as citizens. Fine rests his interpretation on a slim database—most of the documentation that would have been useful for him was destroyed during World War II. He relies on the surviving personnel records at the Bavarian Military Archives in Munich, particularly those of sixty-five fallen Jewish officers of the Bavarian Army. He makes two assumptions about this evidence that seem reasonable: first, the experiences of these sixty-five individuals are representative of Jewish soldiers in general. Second, it is legitimate to reach general conclusions about the degree of integration based on officers rather than enlisted men, because the best way to demonstrate that Jews were treated fairly is to compare the number of those who became officers, as well as how long it took them to do so, to their non-Jewish comrades.

To show that antisemitism was not a major factor in the wartime experience of German Jews, Fine also thoroughly mines the anecdotal evidence, mainly the various collections of letters published during and after the war. In a long chapter, he provides a nuanced reading of the role of Jews' religious identities, seeing these as a means of separating them from non-Jews but, at least in some cases, also allowing them to bond to Christian soldiers of all ranks. A second chapter details the many and varied encounters of German Jews with east European Jews (Ostjuden) and their effects on the soldiers' German and Jewish identity.

Readers are likely to agree that Fine establishes his major point: Jews were well integrated in the German army. The larger conclusions he draws from this basic truth are more problematical, however. Because individual soldiers were loath to talk about the prejudice they experienced does not mean antisemitism was not a major factor in their war service. There were many psychological obstacles in the way of their unburdening themselves on this matter, especially in print. We simply do not know how many felt the insults deeply and never said anything about it. We do know, however, that only Jews had to convince the rest of the population that they were serving honorably and ably at the front. Catholics, Westphalians, workers, peasants, women—none of these felt called upon to prove they were not shirkers by producing volumes of letters from fallen heroes or statistical studies substantiating that they were doing their duty. Fine lists more than a dozen such works issued by the Jewish war veterans (Reichsbund jüdischer Frontsoldaten), the major antidefamation organization (Centralverein deutscher Staatsbürger jüdischen Glaubens), and numerous private individuals. Perceived antisemitism must have played a considerable role in this hectic publishing activity. If, in fact, it was not felt in the front lines, it was rife on the home front.

The most blatant case of antisemitism bearing directly on the lives of Jewish soldiers was the so-called Jew Census of 1916. In October and November of that year, the War Ministry ordered a survey to determine how many Jews were serving at the front, as opposed to the noncombat rear echelons. Whoever thought up the measure (there is no historical consensus regarding its precise origins), it was clearly antisemitic in purpose, meant to demonstrate that Jews were slackers and savvy players of the system. Fine excludes this event from his discussion on the basis that a great deal has already been written about it and that the reaction of Jewish soldiers was extremely diverse, ranging from great anger to complete indifference. True enough, but not sufficient reason to finesse the topic. The issue is not only how Jewish soldiers reacted to the implied accusation, but rather how the rest of the country interpreted the slur. It was unprecedented for a government agency openly to endorse such an overtly antisemitic measure. Never before in the history of the empire had such authoritative actions—and there were several before 1916—acknowledged that Jews were being singled out because they were Jews. That the results of the survey were never officially published actively fed popular suspicions regarding the patriotism of Jews. This episode was a part of every Jew's experience of World War I.

As the war dragged on, all of the problems that had bedeviled the German Empire before 1914 resurfaced, with a vengeance. Among these was antisemitism. At the point of becoming a fringe phenomenon on the eve of the war, it reemerged, fueled by the general and growing discontent. Antisemitism was not only revitalized but also radicalized. The war, particularly the Jew Census of 1916, was, indeed, a momentous watershed in the history of Germany's Jews.